


The Adventures of Pixie Holmes

by blue_spirit



Category: Disney Fairies, Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_spirit/pseuds/blue_spirit
Summary: Sherlock is a new fairy of Pixie Hollow. Will he arrive normally, like everyone else? (what do you guess.) On his first day, he acquaints with Zarina, Mrs Hudson and, of course, John.





	The Adventures of Pixie Holmes

Characters and names are not my own. I just play around with them a little. Enjoy.

It’s an unusually fair morning, and John leaves his teapot home by the opening in the ceiling. The lid is tilted vertically to provide a gap just wide enough for a pixie to slip through. Pixie hollow is really making an effort to be its most beautiful self today, John thinks as he flies over the fields of sunflowers and tulips (beautifully maintained by the garden fairies, of course.)

„Morning, Jodi“ he greets his workmate as he enters the hospital of pixie hollow. „Anything on for today yet?“

„John!“ Jodi exclaims gratefully. „We’ll have the poor fella with the rainbow collision coming over later. He claims the purple is beginning to itch. And we have Fawn here, Greg picked her up this morning, she apparently tripped over one of her weasel-tweezers and hit her head on the brown Baer basin. You know what she’s like. “

John looks to his friend amusedly. Fawn has curled up on her side, breathing quietly. The impulsive (and possibly over-optimistic) animal fairy is one of their more regular visitors. John has no doubts that she will make a quick recovery, as she usually does.

He goes on to prepare a tulip tunic, which is known to help a great deal in soothing the rainbow collision. He sighs and wishes Fawn would wake up. He likes the quiet and generally unimpressed Jodi alright, but Fawn is unarguably the better company.

John is enjoying his second cuppa of earl grey when Fawn finally stirs.

„Jawn?“, his friend mumbles, her voice slurring. Without notice, the animal fairy starts, opening her eyes widely. “Oh! I have to tell you! I-“ She jumps up in excitement, only to lose her balance and tumble into her friend, who carefully grabs her by the armpits and sits her back down.

„Easy there“ John, chuckles „you’ll need to take care of yourself a bit, Fawn. How’s the head?“

Fawn flinches away from his light touch.

„ _It’s all good_! But I really need to tell you what I saw this morning! Oh deer! What if it’s gone? That would be – Oh, I mustn’t think of it! Anyways, John, you have to see it!“

„And what _exactly_ is it, Fawn? That I need to see?“ To be fair, John has his reasons to be sceptical. Fawn had all too often pulled him into one of her adventures, seeking out Hawk traces and following the Sprinting Thistles and the lot.

„Oh you wouldn’t believe it John, you have to see it for yourself!“

John rolls his eyes. _You wouldn’t believe it_ was one of Fawn’s more common lines. It came right after _We just need to help them!_ in John’s mental account of Fawn’s „ _we are about to be stuck in the next complicated situation“_ phrases. And yes, it was _them_ , not _her_ , who kept getting in trouble. John could not bring himself to stop the small smile that began tugging the right corner of his mouth upwards in anticipation. After all, he simply could not resist that good rush of adrenaline that came with one of Fawn’s adventures.

“Fine, I’ll come”, John admits. He tells himself it’s best if there is somebody to look after Fawn right now, anyways, and that this has nothing to do with his adrenaline addiction.

  
  


“You do know that the whole issue with the rainbow collision is at least partly psychosomatic?” Fawn comments as they walk through the woods of pixie hollow. She had, at first, sulked a bit due to John’s refusal to let her fly (“ _Doctor’s orders_. You’ll get dizzy if you go buzzing around right now.”) but now she again holds her wings high, mirroring her lively spirit.

“Remember when it happened to Sil and it wouldn’t go away for ages and she was going on all about how the orange was itching… it only really got better after she _finally_ came out to herself!”

John traces back the memory. Fawn and Silvermist have been happily together pretty much ever since.

“… maybe I should just talk to rainbow guy later. That would pretty much solve the issue,” Fawn concludes her theory.

“What!? By the Second Star, Fawn, you can’t just go and confront Evan like that. Even assuming you are right – that’s personal stuff, from all I know! Hell, I can’t stop you, but maybe ask Silvermist to do it? She’s a bit more, ehm, diplomatic about these things. No offense.”

Fawn tilts her head in thought. “You’re probably right. Sil is pretty much the best one for that job. She has such a kind heart.” Fawn smiles, her eyes gleaming.

“Anyways.” She shakes her head as if attempting to grasp a clear thought. “We should be nearly here. Look, that’s my new brown bear basin. It’s proven to be such a game-changer in getting the young ones accustomed to deeper water, they can be afraid at first, you know…”

The animal fairy steps confidently into the undergrowth. In her excitement, she flutters over rocks and broken branches on the ground. “I saw it here somewhere, maybe it’s behind this boulder, or around that tree… there’s hardly any wind, so that should be good…”

John hovers behind her, eyebrows raised. As long as they weren’t following skunks, they should be fine.

“There!” Fawn hushes. “Careful, we don’t want to disturb it!”

When the animal fairy moves to the side, John sees it. “Is that…,” he begins, mouth falling open.

“A dandelion seed,” Fawn confirms in an excited whisper. “And not just any dandelion seed. I don’t need to be a garden fairy to know; this is not a plant. It’s-“

“It’s one of us,” John completes. “This is a pixie.”

  
  


“How did you get here?” Fawn murmurs, using her _talking-to-scared-animals voice_ while carefully stretching her hand towards the white pappus. “How come we didn’t notice a new fairy arriving?”

The dandelion – or the pixie, rather – shakes in as in protest when Fawn’s fingers brush its feather-like crown. The bushes nearby shudder.

“Hmm, I see now why it’s usually the fast-flying fairies who get the newcomers with their wind energy,” Fawn supposes. “Apropos. Where is Vidia when we need her?”

During her reflection, the dandelion seed has moved out of the undergrowth and up into the air. One could have said it was exploring the surroundings.

“Hey!” Fawn calls. “I’m not losing you this time!”

She and John shoot up into the air, cornering the dandelion in between them. “Stay slightly above, so it can’t move further up!” Fawn directs.

  
  


“Oh no, honey, we are most _definetely_ not going to the winter woods,” the animal fairy protests. “John and I here will freeze our wings off, and I don’t even want to get started on you, dandelion and all!”

“ _How_ do they do that?!” John moans, waving his arms around like propellers. “The fast-flying fairies, what do they know that we don’t?”

“It’s their _talent,_ John. They do wind, you do rainbow people, and I do animals. And not stubborn fairy spirits!”

Fawn pokes the “stubborn fairy spirit” with a finger. It moves towards the ground again, only to then try another escape.

“We’re useless at this,” Fawn states. She lifts her shoulders in a shrug, sighs, and then moves her hands to frame her mouth as she produces very realistic sounding hawk-noises.

“What d’you do that for? Now we also have _hawks_ coming for us, since the situation wasn’t problematic enough _already_!”

“Vidia will be here in a second. Any trace of a hawk and all the fast-flying fairies of pixie hollow are on high alert. Don’t worry, if everything works out alright, we’ll be off before the actual hawks are here.”

John rolls his eyes and groans. “It’s the _if_ that bothers me.”

  
  


“Wow” Vidia asserts. She eyes the dandelion seed, her eyebrows raised, arms crossed. “That is a young fairy.”

“We know, Vid. Listen, we found them here, how come nobody noticed?” Fawn chatters, “Anyways, can you help us get them to the pixie dust tree?”

“Of course,” Vidia answers. She shoots them another quizzical look, which John answers with his hest _it-wasn’t-me_ expression. “And someone should notify Queen Clarion”

“On it,” John quickly replies and shoots away.

Vidia produces a spiral of wind between her hands and gently, but surely lifts the new fairy. She and Fawn make their way to the Pixie Dust Tree.

  
  


...

  
  


“Bobble! Tink! You have to see this!”

Tinkerbell looks up from her assortment of screws and other lost treasures from the mainland, which she has been tinkering with lovingly. “What is it, Clank?”

“I tink tere’s a new fairy arrivin’!” In his excitement, Clank’s accent is even stronger than usual.

Splash. Bobbles water glasses have bursted from his surprised jump. His usually magnified eyes look tiny in comparison.

“Dear Lord,” he excaims frantically. “Now they don’t even manage to tell us in advance! I’ve got all this work I need to do!”

“Well you could’ve thought of doing it earlier, my dear,” Fairy Mary, the head of the Tinker fairies, chimes in. “Now hurry up, it would be a shame to miss the newcomer finding out their talent!”

Undone work and mainland treasures forgotten, the four of them make their way to the pixie dust tree.

  
  


Soon enough, faries from all corners of pixie hollow are arriving at their island’s centre. There is an excited whisper in the air.

Fawn leads Silvermist by the hand, the rest of the water fairies following the two curiously. Rosetta and Molly arrive surrounded by other garden fairies who still seem to be in the making of flower crowns. One of them is still carrying a tulip seed like a baby.

As the rest of pixie hollow’s magical inhabitants arrive, Vidia skillfully maneuvers the dandelion seed to the flat centre space in the tree. With a final gust of wind, the seed tips over and lands on the ground.

All are watching excitedly as Terence ceremonially carries a goblet of pixie dust. The fairies seem to hold their breath collectively when he slowly pours the sparkling gold over the dandelion seed in their midst. For a short moment, all is still. And then-

A fair haired pixie lifts his head. Even kneeling on the ground, he seems to be tall and rather lean, and he is wearing a long, white gown, that quite resembles the dandelion seed in its consistency. He sits up straight as he watches the fairies smiling at him warmly, some ushering a gentle “hello.”

The new pixie remains quiet, his grey-green eyes wide open and observant. The fairies seem to be awaiting something, he decides.

And he is right; a moment later, something, or some _one_ rather, materialises. (A minor inadequacy in his observations, although he anticipated the main part correctly.)

To the longer residents of pixie hollow, the fairy is known as Queen Clarion. She greets everyone with a benevolent smile before she turns her attention to the newcomer.

“Born of laughter, carried by the seasons,” she begins. “I heard there were some disturbances in your journey here?”

The pixie narrows his eyes for a bit in thought, then looks at Queen Clarion.

“It certainly seems so,” he states. “Judging from the fact that everyone here seems very excited. To be fair, this may also be the case every time somebody new arrives here, since I am clearly not the first. However, judging from your concerned faces and the fact that you seemingly all left a current activity in haste – I see dirty hands and carried working utensils, to name a few – to attend this otherwise ceremonious assembly tells me that this is not standard procedure. And then there is also the fact that your Majesty, I assume, has just pointed it out directly.”

Queen Clarion smiles mildly at the newcomer. She seems to be the only one who is not impressed with this blunt introduction; the other fairies have again taken up their whispered chatter from before. The Queen raises a hand, and they fall quiet.

“I see,” she replies. “I was wondering whether you could tell us if you remember anything from the journey itself? The cause of delay, perhaps?”

The pixie puts his index and middle fingers to his temples and closes his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing.

As he looks back up at Queen Clarion, he states tentatively: “No. I can’t rememer anything.” A puzzled look crosses his face.

“Don’t worry,” the lady in gold reassures him. She smiles warmly. “It would be most extraordinary anyway.”

The Queen seems to be lost in thought for a short moment before quickly regaining her composure. She reaches out a hand to the newcomer, inviting him to take it.

“Now, let’s take care of your wings, shall we?”

The young pixie looks at her hand sceptically in the way that children hesitate before letting strangers near them, but decides to take it.

The Queen pulls gently pulls him to his feet. She leads him by the hand so he turns around and stands with his back facing her. And then Queen Clarion strokes her fingers along his wings, which have been losely hanging from his back until now. Whether by magic, thought, or her actual physical touch, the pixie’s wings stretch upwards in anticipation.

  
  


He looks more like an angel than an ordinary pixie in this golden halo of hair and white gown, John thinks as he watches how the newcomer closes his eyes and moves his wings testily.

Queen Clarion laughs her soft laugh. “Do you want to give them a try?”

The pixie taps his fingers to his temples once again, concentrating. With a remarkable assurance, he takes off and takes a spin over their heads. Most of the new fairies are more wary at their first fly, John reflects, although he wasn’t one of them.

  
  


As the strange newcomer makes for a fly around the pixie dust tree, Queen Clarion waves her hand and a circle of identical mushrooms, like small tables, appear in their midst. Rosetta and Molly bring their token flower and set it hovering over the mushroom table in front of the garden fairies. Next to them, Silvermist places a bubble of water, and next to her, Iridessa carries a ball of pure light.

As soon as they are all set, they look out for the newcomer, who has disappeared.

“Well that for sure wasn’t what I was expecting when I said I was up for some excitement,” Rosetta tells Molly. “I was more thinking about Sled…”

Molly shrugs. “Well, one can never really know what’s coming, right?”

“Oooh guys, what do you think is going to be his talent?” Iridessa has come fluttering over to her friends.

“I hope he won’t be garden,” Rosetta says decidedly. “My flowers need peace and calm, and something tells me he is exactly the opposite!”

“I can’t imagine him doing well with light either!” Iridessa chimes in. Think of all the chaos one can cause!”

“He seems interesting, though,” Zarina voices. Before she can continue, Queen Clarion’s golden glow tells them she has returned, leading the newcomer.

“My apologies for the short interruption of the ceremony,” she explains. “Our newcomer took a little detour.”

  
  


Clarion motions for him to reclaim the spot in the centre of the assembly, which is now framed by a circle of mushrooms, presenting objects. The mushoom tables seem to have grown there, although according to his observations from earlier they clearly just appeared. Thus, it is possible that things appear and disappear by some other force in this place. Note that for later.

The fairies, including the queen, watch him intently. Nobody actually does anything, so they must be awaiting some sort of action from his side.

Since he has gotten no specific instructions, he might aswell go ahead and inspect the artefacts more closely. Behind each sits a group of fairies in clothing that matches the colour or other attributes of the object. Clearly, he is supposed to choose one group in order to become part of the associated group. Why does he have to be part of a group? A group means adapting to other people’s principles, his own ideas unheard… Something tells him that working alone would be much more satisfactory.

Many of the objects are plainly boring. He tests the hovering qualities by taking up a stone hammer (watched intently by a group of fairies in green). After him touching the hammer, it again seems to obey the laws of physics as he knows them. (Knows them from where exactly? Will need to find that out later.) The same goes for a rose coloured blossom. As he drops it, a small fairy with straight chestnut hair seems highly disappointed. Her friend (matching flower hair ornaments, clearly done for one another, mutual ease in physical proximity) shows open relief, on the other hand.

Some objects he doesn’t even bother looking at. A muffin – that’s either baking or eating. Even though it’s often a waste of time, everyone has to eat, which doesn’t require a specific talent, so it’s most likely baking. What would he want to spend his days baking for? There is, of course the possibility of testing reactions of different combinations of elements, but there are only so many substances he would be allowed to try, as the pastry is seemingly destined for consumption.

He enjoys himself with popping a bubble of water, and poking a ball of light. He cannot even grasp it – frustrating.

A basin of golden particles is next. He has noticed the same particles on his hands and the ground below him. Wondering about their potential, he grabs a fistful and sprinkles it over the nearest object – the hammer. It lifts back into the air. Making things fly… and other undiscovered uses. A modest hit sends the hammer flying across the empty space. Somewhere, a fairy catches it, making a disapproving _tsk_ noise. He pays no further attention; the shine of another object has caught his attention. It is a clear vessel, filled with the same sparkling particles, just in more colours. As he grabs it, the glass feels warm. Excitement rushes through him. Following a strange intuition, he pours some of the vessel’s content onto his hand.

  
  


Jolly Lord. This is the first person to notice her alchemy dust! Most of the few newcomers she has witnessed didn’t even spare it a second look.

As she smooths back a loose strand of hair, Zarina notices that her fingers are trembling. _Don’t get your hopes up, Zarina!_ she scolds herself.

Zarina sits in anxiety as she watches how the curious newcomer spreads pink garden dust onto his long hand and fingers. She wonder if he knows what it can do. Damn. Maybe she shouldn’t have put so much dust in the vessle, she should _know_ what it can do, after the incident with Pixie Dust Tower!

And she’s thinking about it again. Apparently the memory will haunt her forever. _Well, probably for a reason_ , says the annoying tiny voice in her head, _since you still haven’t learnt-_

But nothing has happened yet, Zarina reminds herself as she pulls herself back into reality. The tall pixie still observes the pink sparkles on his palm inquisitively. Until he lifts his hand to his mouth and blows.

Everyone gasps.

„My, those are beautiful!“ Zarina hears Rosetta exclaim from nearby. She is quite right. The bushes of vines and flowers the young pixie has created are indeed extraordinary. He didn’t even have any material to begin with – Zarina usually works with aready existing matter, only moving, shaping, expanding it.

And he is not yet finished. Already there is yellow dust spread between his fingers. The pixie stretches his palms out to the light. The sunrays should be solid if he could move them like that. Or he needed to be a light fairy. Yet he clearly isn’t. The floral creation blooms up as the rays of sun hit it.

The the blossoms have only shone for about a second when they already begin to wilt at an alarming speed. Zarina spots blue dust between the elf’s fingers – he drains the water from the plants until only dust is left. Finally, with a gust of wind, the dust lifts up into the air and disappears.

„Interesting,“ the pixie mutters.

The near-empty vessle in his hand glows and trembles.

  
  


„Come forward, Zarina,“ Queen Clarion invites the alchemy fairy. „And welcome the newest member of your talent - Sherlock.“

In his imagination, John can hear the newcomer’s – Sherlock’s – voice in his head: “What a creative name… clearly you couldn’t think of anything other than my _hair_ to name me after?”

Strange, since he hasn’t actually heard him talk much. But indeed, John thinks he can see Sherlock roll his eyes at his fair curls.

“John.” The Queen turns to him. “Would you keep an eye on Sherlock for a while? We don’t know what might have happened to him before Fawn found him, so if he shows any signs of trauma… well, just look after him for a while, please.”

“Don’t worry, your majesty, I think he’s always like this,” John laughs. He straightens. “But of course I’ll look after him.”

The Queen smiles at him gratefully as he sets off to catch the two alchemy fairies.

  
  


“ _How_ did you do that?” Zarina demands. “How did you know how to work the pixie dust? You did things even I have never done before!”

“I experimented with the qualities of the - pixie dust, you call it?” Sherlock says plainly. “Although I have to admit that most of it was intuition I suppose – knowledge processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend.”

Zarina’s mouth gapes wide open, at the sight John notices that his jaw has dropped, too. He reminds himself to shut it.

“Er, Zarina, Queen Clarion told me to come with you, well with Sherlock, actually,” John makes himself noticeable in the conversation.

Sherlock looks at him interestedly.

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Zarina exclaims. “To be honest, I don’t know exactly what to do with new pixies, also we didn’t really have time to prepare… John, you can help me!”

  
  


Some minutes later, Zarina is rummaging around her flat. Both John and Sherlock stand in the doorway, watching.

“Ah, John, what exactly is standard procedure with a newcomer pixie?” Zarina inquires.

The pixie shrugs.

“Well, you usually show them their new home, introduce them to the team and ah… we could also get you some clothes,” he says, eyeing Sherlock from sideways, who is still in his dandelion attire.

“I’ve got something for that!” Zarina exclaims. She flutters across the room, stubles over a wooden chest (several pink sparks burst out, and some daisies sprout in a corner) and sets a stack of baskets in disarray. Sherlock, in the meanwhile, has taken interest in a pile of slimy looking eyes on Zarina’s work desk, which he sniffs at.

“Got it!” Zarina pulls out a dark blue coat, which she holds above her head like a treasure. “I kept this from the pirate ship and shrunk it to fairy size, it might fit you!” She holds it out to Sherlock.

“Uh yeah, Zarina lived with pirates once,” John explains.

“I deduced as much,” Sherlock states. “John, you seem to have a tendency to point out the obvious.”

“You _deduced_ it?”

“Yes. There are several indices wich suggest so, most obviously there are her clothes – the boots for instance are made form animal skin, whereas everone else here wears plant fabric. Then there are her speech mannerisms-”

He hesitates at the look on John’s face.

“What?”

“That’s brilliant!” John exclaims.

“You think so?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sherlock and John’s eyes meet for a short moment, and Sherlock breaks into a vague smile until Zarina breaks the silence -

“Doomed deer dung, how could I forget? Sherlock, we need to find a place for you to live! I mean, I would offer you to stay here, but this place isn’t really big and everything is stuffed with equipment and lost things… so I’m not sure if it’s convenient enough”

“That won’t be a problem,” says John. “Ever since we got the teapot upgrade to 221 tree, Mrs Hudson is on about me getting a flatmate – you can move in with me!”

John hesitates, trying to read Sherlock’s facial expression. “If you would like to, obviously.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

  
  


So it is that later in the day, after leaving Zarina to make arrangements for the new pixie’s training, that Sherlock follows John to 221 tree.

“Why 221?” asks Sherlock.

“Thats its number, a while ago somebody decided to invent house numbers like they have on the mainland, you know, to organise post disposal and stuff.”

“Oh. Right.”

Sherlock eyes what must be other fairies homes – some live in hollow tree trunks, several annexed with artifacts seemingly not originating from the island.

“Here we are,” John’s voice snaps him away from his observations.

They have arrived at a hollow tree stump (humans would know it to be about half a metre high). On its top, there sits a giant teapot, effectively sealing the top opening. Light shines from small windows shaped by knotholes, and there is a round door close to the ground which John heads to.

“We better say hello to Mrs Hudson first,” John explains. “She lives in the ground appartment.”

He knocks, and soon enough a small, elderly lady appears, dressed in leaves of a reddish purple.

“John!” She greets him and pulls him into a warm embrace. Her appearance and behaviour indicate a mostly domestic existance, although the way in which she has conveniently tucked tools into her belt suggest that she is resourceful when needed. Not to forget the hidden basement concealed by a tile of moss that John has just obliviously stepped over.

“Mrs Hudson,” John smiles, “this is Sherlock.”

“Oh, you’ve found yourself a flatmate!” Mrs Hudson exclaims happily. “You’re Sherlock, the newcomer, am I right? Come in!”

The two flutter into her flat. The flower-patterned tea towels, the colourful jars on wooden shelves and the lights shining from the ceiling (what _are_ they? Will need to find that out) give it an altogether homely appearance.

“You know, I was delighted when Tinkerbell brought that colossus of a teapot from the mainland and annexed it to the home, oh the trouble we had with the roof before… that fairie really has a talent for construction,” Mrs Hudson rambles. “She’s a tinker fairy.”

“Obviously. And a rather beautiful one too, going by her name,” Sherlock states. “Wasn’t hard to guess.”

Mrs Hudson _tsk_ s. “Oh of course you would work that out. Now John, why don’t you show Sherlock the flat while I make you two a nice cuppa? Just this once.”

She flutters up to the ceiling and pushes open a trap door.

“There’s a second bedroom upstairs, if you’ll be needing two."

John takes an exasperated breath.

“Of course we’ll be needing two.”


End file.
